


'cause nobody knows my body the way you do

by unnohrian (cuddlebros)



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Mommy Kink, Overstimulation, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 08:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13760553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlebros/pseuds/unnohrian
Summary: You've had a tough day, and all you want to do is blow off some steam. Thankfully, your girlfriend knows exactly what you need—and boy, does shegiveit to you.





	'cause nobody knows my body the way you do

**Author's Note:**

> This fic works separately from any of my others involving Camilla. It implies a dom/sub relationship that has already been discussed, negotiated, and agreed to, and it should be known that both characters know they have a safe word and their own personal system to stop the scene at any time--but there wasn't much space in the fic to show this.
> 
> For this fic, both reader and Camilla are assumed to be cis women. That won't always be the case in my fics. Also reader kinda has a praise kink, mostly because it's the easiest excuse to use pet names instead of [Y/N] which didn't seem to quite fit this one?
> 
> Fic title from SAKIMA's song "Snow Angels" because I am, apparently, incapable of original thought.

You and Camilla took completely different routes when it came to dealing with stress: she wanted to nurture, to feel like there was someone in her arms who could feel all her love and hard work, someone who appreciated all she did; you, her baby girl. And then, when stress struck _you_ , you had that urge to be completely helpless, have nothing in your hands, moving from one second to the next completely at someone elses whim.

So when you return home one day, visibly frustrated, Camilla finds it easy to slip into her dominating role as your mommy—not the gentle one of the morning or the day before, but the commanding one you _needed_ right now. She orders you to strip, right there in the hallway of your apartment, tells you to fold your clothes nicely and put them away. If you were feeling obedient, you would’ve.

Instead, you step away from your pile of clothes, boldly walking right up to her. She doesn’t flinch.

“Mommy told you to pick up your clothes, princess.”

“I don’t feel like it,” you say, shrugging. You know it’ll get under her skin, know it’ll get you what you want a little quicker.

“Oh, quite the disobedient little one I have here today, hm?” Her eyes narrow, and your smug smile falters a little. “We don’t tolerate disobedience in this house.”

She takes hold of your upper arm, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough that you know a struggle would be futile. She pulls you close enough that you hear her whispered question about how hard you want her to fuck you; you whisper back that you don’t even want to be able to feel your pussy tomorrow. That you want her marks everywhere, purple bruises telling the story of your night. Her responding grin is predatory, and her fingers grip you harder—hard enough to leave a mark, you hope.

Towards your room she pulls you, the display of her strength already creating a little warmth between your thighs. She pulls you to sit on the edge of the bed, then turns to take your collar off of the wall where it hangs. You bite your lip—collars were for _very_ naughty girls, to put them in their place. You couldn’t _wait_ to be put in your place.

“Head up, naughty girl.” When your head doesn’t move, she takes your chin in hand and firmly moves it for you, threading the collar around your neck with her other hand. “Momma’s really going to have to teach you to listen, hm?” Once she’s done up the collar, she stands back to appraise you. You know she’s working out what to do with you, where to start, and you squirm with anticipation.

In the top drawer of one of your dressers are your toys—vibrators, plugs, dildos, cuffs, anything you or Camilla thought you might like to try one day. You catch a flash of something dusty pink, and hear what you assume is the pop of a cap of lube. When Camilla turns around, you see you were right.

“Well, bad girls don’t mind a bit of pain, hm?” She was holding the vibrating egg you’d had a while but never tried, the remote confidently in hand. “Maybe this will convince you to do things momma’s way again.”

She kneels before you, and with no prep, places the lubed egg at the entrance of your pussy, slowly stretching you as it pushes through your unprepared hole. You moan as the largest part of the egg stretches you, falling back onto your elbows—and then you feel your pussy swallow it whole. Thankfully, you’re given a few seconds before Camilla makes it start vibrating, a low hum inside you that your hips search out with a wiggle.

“You going to apologise for earlier yet, pretty girl?”

You shake your head rebelliously, pulling your bottom lip in with your teeth as you wonder what’s next.

“A shame.” Her head dips between your thighs, nipping at the soft skin there before pulling away. “Because my good, good, little baby would’ve had some adjustment time. But you’ve made your choice.”

And then you’re cranking out a strangled noise, a moan and scream all at once, because she’s turned the little vibrator up to what you assume is one of the highest settings. A crazy amount of sensation hits you all at once, and you think you’re going to cum any second, but—but you can’t, the friction is missing. There’s nothing against your pussy to push you over the edge, and you groan at the realisation that you’re going to be riding this edge for a while.

“All pleasure, hm?”

“Please, momma—”

“Apologise, and I’ll think about it.” You stubbornly shake your head. Camilla sighs. “Well then,” she sits next to you, pulls you across her lap in one smooth move. You squirm a little, but she holds firm. “You're going to take 30 hits—fifteen on each cheek—and I expect you to count.”

The first five smacks are fine. Your hips roll down towards her leg, but Camilla makes sure you get none of the attention you’re seeking. After that, every hit of her skin on yours just makes you clench against the vibrator, your counting getting progressively more lost in your moans until she tuts and stills.

“Only halfway through and already falling apart. Pathetic.” The coolness of the palm that hadn’t been spanking you is so soothing on your hot skin that you whimper at the touch, shifting your ass back to try for some more relief, but Camilla removes her hand and laughs at you. “You have fifteen to go, kitten, and you’ll want to count these properly—I’m not feeling particularly forgiving.” Her words make you shiver.

She starts again, 17, 18, 19, 20—you’re able to stutter out the numbers all the way to 26 before you’re nearly crying in desperation, incredibly close but still so painfully, painfully far from getting to cum.

Camilla coos at you patronisingly, but her spanks halt. “Aw, seems like all that attitude is melting away from my big, tough, kitten. You have four more to go, and you _will_ take them, am I making myself clear?”

“Y-yes, momm- _ah_!”

“Good.”

By the time you get to thirty, you’re screaming the word, thankful that you have no neighbours around to hear your pathetic sobbing or wanton screams.

“Are you ready to apologise yet, baby? You may get some relief if you do…”

Your voice is a babbling mess at this point, all sense of bravado disappearing. “I’m sorry momma, so sorry, please, _please_ forgive me, momma…”

A gentle finger comes to wipe across your cheek, and only once she’s wiped them away do you even realise you’d shed some tears. Little moments like that always settled in you that Camilla was the perfect dom for you; she realised what you needed before you did, could match your moods with startling accuracy. Clearly, there were times she knew you better than you knew yourself.

“Well, you sound almost convincing there, sweetie. I accept your apology, but your punishments aren’t done. Stand up, turn around. Mommy wants to see what a pretty picture she’s made on your ass.”

You climb off of her lap gingerly, legs feeling like jelly. Mercifully, she lowers the vibrations of the egg, reeling you back from the edge. It’s not release, but it’s not that painful place just before it, either. Every pass of her fingertips ghosts over your lower back, tracing the curve of your ass with touches that barely land. You wouldn’t be surprised if she took a photo later.

“Hm. I’d say you’d learnt your lesson, but you really hurt my feelings earlier… I think you should make it up to me. Turn around.”

You comply. Camilla is still sitting on the edge of the bed, but she’s pulled her pencil skirt to ruche up around her hips, letting you see where her stockings end on her meaty thighs, and the fact that she’d either gone commando all day or had slipped off her underwear while admiring your ass. Both ideas add to the wetness between your legs. Instinctively, you drop to your knees. Approval flashes in Camilla’s eyes, and she hooks one finger through your collar to guide you forward.

“We’ll make a good girl out of you yet, baby,” she coos. “Eat.”

She doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You dive into her pussy like you’d been starved of it. You’re nose deep in her clit, tongue lapping at her labia and then probing, determinedly, at her hole until you’re in. And then, just as quick, you’re lapping at her clit, spurred on when one of her hands grabs your hair to keep you there. You can tell she’s enjoying it when she lets loose a moan—glancing up, you see her bottom lip caught between her teeth in an attempt to keep from letting you know you were doing well.

The tip of your tongue trails down, messily trying to pull those noises out of her again—and then you feel an intense spike in the vibrations deep within you. You cry out, drawing your mouth away from Camilla, but she drags you right back.

“Oh no, kitten, you’re going to eat me until I’m done—and don’t even _think_ about cumming until I do.”

Obediently, you bring your mouth back to her, focusing again on her clit. Your fingers join you this time, eager to bring her to her end so that you can finally reach your own. The first touch of her is so wet and warm that you moan directly into that little ball of nerves, pulling an echoing moan from deep in her throat. But you press further, a single finger probing the velvet of her, in and out until you think she can take another one.

When the second finger joins the first, she spikes the vibrations a little before letting them even out again. You know her body so well at this point that your fingers quickly and easily find the spots inside her that drive her wild, crooking to stroke them in rhythm with your tongue. Her fingers in your hair get stronger, pulling you closer and closer until your nose is overcome with the smell of her, sweet and musky, so dirty that you feel yourself clenching and rolling against the vibrator. It only spurs you on, making you eat her out more voraciously until you can tell she’s getting close.

“Mmh, right there, sweetie—yes, yes, _yes_ , there—a little more— _yes—_!”

Her breathy moans turn into a silent scream, her head thrown back and fingers clamping around you as she cums. Looking up, her face awash with ecstasy, lost somewhere in wild abandon, you feel a sense of pride. Yeah— _you_ made her feel that good. Even after acting up, you still managed to give her such a thrill.

“Good job, kitten,” she says, smiling down at you. Her hand comes to rest under your chin, her thumb running through some of the saliva and cum that’s staining your mouth, a possessive touch that you lean into like a real kitten. “You’re so sweet like this, baby. Make mommy so proud when you behave yourself.”

“I’m sorry, momma,” you mumble.

“I’m sure you are,” she coos, “and I’m feeling kinder now. You want to cum, don’t you, baby?” She watches you nod. “Of course you do. And I bet you’re feeling awful sensitive with that vibrator so deep in your cunt, hm? Stand up, kitten, and get on the bed. The remote will be close to you, but you’re not to touch it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Wonderful girl! Up you get, then.”

You get to your feet, a little shaky after being on your knees for a while and still riding the edge of your orgasm, but manage to crawl up the bed to the abundance of pillows, falling back into them. It gives you a great view of Camilla as she unbuttons her blouse, unzips her skirt, and undoes her bra, putting them all back where they should go. You’ve been in this position before, but those times you’d been allowed to touch yourself, allowed to enjoy the view fully. Here, you’re adrift, eyes taking in the beauty of the woman you love, the woman who owns you so completely, but whose mercy you’re still under.

It’s frustrating, but soon enough she’s turning her attention back to you.

“I wonder how long it will take me to make you cum, honey?” She crawls the same path up the bed as you, hovering between your spread legs like a predator ready to pounce. “Maybe the first touch of my fingers on your cute little clit will be it?” She wastes no time, reaching out to rub your clit in circles—but she’s right, only a few rubs and you’re coming undone in the most spectacular way, bucking as your pussy spasms and clenches, stuck in that high as the vibrator inside you keeps buzzing.

Quickly, you feel it become too much, your orgasm going on too long, and too intense for you to stand it. If you could form words, you’re sure you’d be begging her to pull it out, let you stop cumming—but it’s not something you’d safeword out of, you don’t think. You don’t find yourself reaching to make your agreed hand signal to stop either. You think you kind of understand the appeal of overstimulation, now.

Slowly, Camilla lowers the vibrations, and you feel yourself ride the wave all the way till it crashes, dissipates, and fizzles out, bringing you back into the moment.

“You back with us, sweetie?” she asks softly. You can feel her hand rubbing over your hip, a gently grounding touch. You take that hand with yours, intertwining your fingers. “I didn’t ride you too hard, did I?”

“No, baby, it was just right. Just what I needed, thank you.”

“We still have to get that egg out of you, kitten, so don’t thank me too much,” she teases, and you groan because you know she’s right. You’re feeling a little exhausted down there, and you can’t say you’re excited about having to get that thing out of you again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

Gentle she may be, but nothing was going to make it comfortable. You grin and bare it, letting her ease the vibrator out of you little by little. By the time it’s out, you’re pretty sure you’ve never been more glad to have something out of your vagina.

“I’ll get that cleaned up later, honey. What do you need right now?”

“A drink,” you say, laughing. “A drink and a cuddle and to think about anything other than the shitty parts of my day.”

She presses a kiss to your lips, slow and soft and full of love. Her eyes, when you part, are so full of gentleness it takes your breath away.

“I think we can make that happen.”

**Author's Note:**

> I... got a little inspiration from reading some other fics I've been reading lately, and felt like writing some Camilla. She's still one of my favourite characters, and I still love Fates, though I'm still Very Very Bad At Fire Emblem. There were a couple comments looking for more mommy kink Camilla, so I hope this lives up to expectations.
> 
> Personally, I think it's a little too event-description-heavy, but I can't work out how to fix it. Maybe more emotion, but that didn't feel quite right for this fic. idk [shrug emoji] PLUS I'M STILL NOT GOOD AT NSFW so please, if you have any tips, suggestions or pointers, lmk! Plus, although I try my best, my editing isn't always great. 
> 
> As always, you can find me at cuddlebros.tumblr.com, where I... don't post much recently, but I'll always answer asks, requests, or fix problems! (in my fics, at least. I probably can't fix your leaking tap :( )


End file.
